


Love Always Comes Back, But I Wanted Yours

by chuwaeyo



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drabble Collection, Heartbreak, Moving On, Original Fiction, Romance, Sad, Short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-23 22:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17088803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chuwaeyo/pseuds/chuwaeyo
Summary: I can't stand you, but maybe in some hidden, guarded part of my heart, I'll always love you.Collection of short writings about the heartbreak of you and I.





	1. Same Coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We tell our stories differently, don’t we, you and I?  
> — Paula Hawkins; Into the Water

 

Time would pass, seasons would change, but god, you thought she would stay - she said she would stay.

Heartbreak and ruin would pass you by every day, but you had each other.

You were supposed to have each other.

When did it all slip out of your fingers?

When did it all fall apart?

How could you have gone through so much together and still not realize she was already gone.

You couldn't recognize your own voice anymore, too sad and distant from what it used to be, lost in the past of what used to be.

"I would drop everything for her"

Her voice haunted you, taunting, of all the things you did and didn't do.

_They were never there for me..._

"I was at her beck and call."

_It felt like I was the only one that tried_

"I would give up the sun if it meant she would smile."

_It felt like they would have more fun with others_

"She makes it all worth it if I have to be honest."

_I don't know if I mean anything to them anymore_

"I loved her."

_I loved them_

And time and time again, their questions haunted you:

_**Why didn't it work out? Why can't you talk to each other? Why? Why? Why?** _

"I loved them."

_They loved me_


	2. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I find myself moving on, but when someone mentions your name it is like a punch to the gut. All the wind gets knocked out of me. Now a name that used to be so sweet only leaves bitterness on my lips.  
> — C.H.

How are you doing?

Are you eating well?

Are you sleeping enough?

I can't help but worry about you even after all the hurt that we did to each other.

After all the pain and tears and worrying.

I just hope you aren't doing the same for me.

I know how kind you are but I don't deserve that kind of treatment, especially not from you.

I want the best for you, I want to check in on you, I want to know how you're doing.

But I also don't.

I don't want to hear about how you're thriving more now, that you're glowing and smiling and laughing more than ever without me.

I don't want to feel the same heartbreak over and over again just because I still worry about you.

It's like a punch to the gut.

You steal the breath from my lungs. More forceful, more painful, more heartbreaking than before.

I'm moving on but at what cost?

I can't be in the same room as you, can't hear your name in casual conversation, can't hear about you at all without hurting all over again.

I'm moving on but I lost you and so much of myself.

And I'm so sorry I ever did this to us.


	3. Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "talking about what's fair"

We were never fair to each other.

We were so reliant on each other. 

Maybe too much.

So reliant and eager for love that we ended up ruining each other.

Eager to find some solace in each other.

And sometimes we did.

Sometimes you felt like home.

As much a home as a person could be, with shaking arms and nervous laughs.

Bright smiles and endless texts preaching appreciation and love.

And what did I give you?

I gave you half smiles and grins.

Surprised "thank you's" and quiet "I love you too's".

Because I didn't know what else to say.

Because I didn't know that someday, I'd lose you.

I'd lose you because I was so lost and entranced by your smile that I didn't realize it was too late.

I liken myself to Icarus for flying to close to the sun, but at least he flew.

At least there was a viable hope for him.

He burned, but at least he flew, at least the people remember him.

And what of me? 

What do I have to show or prove for my time with you?

A broken heart and shell of a person? 

Deleted pictures and texts that hurt me too much to keep so I removed them from our narrative.

Memories that are tainted with the idea that you knew you were just using me to fill some void you felt.

All the smiles and laughs I once treasured.

I guess that's fair.

Using each other to fill a void we're too ashamed to admit that we had.

Using each other until the last moment, until it hurt too much to pretend anymore.

I guess that's fair.


End file.
